The Blake Adventures: Retrograde
by AndAllThatMishigas
Summary: A difficult case turns personal for the Blake family as Lucien's worst nightmare comes true.
1. Chapter 1

**The Blake Adventures: Retrograde**

_August 1967_

Lucien Blake walked through the front door of his family home and was immediately greeted with a cacophony. The television was on in the parlor. Sounds of pots and pans came from the kitchen. There was a soft thundering on the stairs. All very familiar sounds but quite jarring altogether. But this was music to Lucien's ears. These were the loud yet comforting sounds of his family.

"DADA! DADA! DADA!"

With the determination of a furious little penguin, a blonde toddler raced toward Lucien. His bare little feet smacked loudly on the thin rug covering the hardwood floor. And when he got close enough, Lucien scooped him up and kissed his cheek. "Hello, Johnny. How's my boy?"

Johnny grinned delightedly. "Good, Dada," he responded. He wrapped his pudgy little arms around his father's neck and hugged him tight.

Lucien carried his son through the house to pop into the parlor where Valerie was watching television. "Hello, darling girl," he greeted.

Valerie, now just a month past her sixth birthday, looked up from the screen to say hello. "Look, Daddy, my tooth is looser!" She opened her mouth wide and wiggled the incisor that had been slowly making its way out of her mouth for the last few days.

"My goodness, you're going to be completely toothless before you know it!" he teased.

But Valerie was quite familiar with her father's antics so she just laughed and sat back down on the sofa.

"Johnny, do you want to watch television with Valerie?" Lucien asked the little boy still clutching his neck.

When Johnny made no attempt to move, Lucien assumed the answer was no.

"Alright, let's go see Mummy," he said, carrying his son into the kitchen.

Jean was in the middle of pouring a pot of steamed veg into a bowl when Lucien arrived. "Dinner will just be a moment," she said, not even bothering to turn or look up.

"Anything I can do to help?" Lucien asked.

"No, just hang on a moment," Jean answered distractedly.

Lucien nodded. "We will hang on."

When Jean did look up in confusion, she saw her husband holding their son. Johnny had been doing that lately, clinging to people. Only the day before, he wouldn't let her go without throwing a tantrum, so Jean just held him with one arm while she did the dusting with the other. It made her sore for hours, and both she and Johnny were getting a bit old for it, but he was still her baby in so many ways and she did not want to let him go if she did not have to. She would endure some achy muscles for the privilege to hold him as often as she could.

Jean appreciated that Lucien and Johnny both waited patiently while she finished up what she was doing. It only took her a minute to deal with all the hot food and turn off the stove. She sighed in satisfaction.

"Valerie, turn off the television and wash your hands for dinner, please," Jean called out to her daughter. It was then that she finally turned her attention. "Now then, you may set the table for me," she told Lucien.

"Do you want to help me, son?" Lucien asked Johnny.

That perked him up a bit. Their boy certainly loved to help, loved to try new things and do anything that anyone asked of him. "Yeah!" he answered enthusiastically.

Jean smiled as she watched Lucien open the cupboard door and shift Johnny in his arms so he could take the plates out. It took quite a lot of time for Johnny to take each plate one by one and put them on the table, but he was so excited to help do a big grown up task. And he was only twenty months old, so it wasn't as though he could hold more than one plate at a time. As it was, Lucien was being extremely trusting that a toddler could hold any dish without letting it fall and break.

Lucien showed Johnny where the plates and napkins and silverware all went, and he put each place setting in just the right spot. When everything was set, Lucien put Johnny into his highchair—which he had quite nearly grown out of—and exhaled in slight relief.

Jean took note of the hint of exhaustion that crossed Lucien's face. She knew this case with the police was wearing on him. And he had been in autopsy all day. Things must not be going well. When things were difficult with a case, he did not speak a single word of it until the children were in bed and he and Jean could discuss it alone. He was exuberant and eager to talk about everything he'd done that day if it had gone well, which provided quite a bit of fodder for the dinner table.

Whenever it was mentioned, Valerie loved to ask all sorts of questions about Lucien's work, and he answered her patiently and honestly, or at least as honestly as he could for such a young child. Jean was rather sure that the third generation of Dr. Blake was sitting there with a loose tooth and tangled, curly brown hair. She was as clever as her father and just as enthusiastic about everything. Johnny was less intellectual, it seemed, though how intellectual could a child be before the age of two? But while Valerie would sit and read a book for hours and then badger the first person who came by with questions, Johnny could never sit still. He got that from his father as much as Valerie got her curiosity. It was funny to Jean that she could see so much of Lucien in both their children. It had been that way with Christopher and Jack, as well. Christopher was the spitting image of his father while Jack got all his personality. At least she could see herself in her Beazley boys. She did not see so much in her Blake children. Valerie looked like her a great deal, but so far, that was all.

"Jean?"

She was startled out of her reverie when Lucien said her name. He was standing beside her while their children sat at their places at the table. "Oh sorry, shall we sit?"

"In just a minute, please," he said, stopping her from moving. He put his enormous hands on her upper arms, which was always an indication that she should stand still.

"What is it, Lucien?" she asked.

He leaned in and kissed her gently. It was soft but lingering. She felt the breath from his nose tickle her cheek, causing her to whimper quietly. Lucien pulled back and smiled. "I wanted to give you a proper hello. I missed you today," he murmured.

Something was very troubling to Lucien, that much she knew for sure. He was not often this vulnerable before dinner. She eyed him curiously. But she did not say anything. Not yet. Instead, she placed a hand on the back of his neck and pulled him down to kiss her again before they sat down at the table.

After Valerie said grace, they all started eating. And Valerie started asking her questions. "Why do you do that?"

"Do what, sweet girl?" Jean asked in return.

"Why do you kiss like that?"

Jean smiled. "Because we love each other. And it's quite nice to kiss someone you're in love with."

Valerie turned to her father. "Do you kiss Uncle Matthew?"

Lucien nearly choked at that. "No, I don't kiss Uncle Matthew."

"Why not? Don't you love Uncle Matthew?"

"I do love Uncle Matthew, but not in the same way I love your mother," Lucien explained delicately. He caught Jean suppressing giggles out of the corner of his eye.

"Why not?"

"It's just different. I love Uncle Matthew like a brother, but you don't see Christopher kissing you like I kiss Mummy, do you?"

Valerie considered that for a moment. "No," she answered.

"Because that's a different kind of love. I love you and Johnny as my children. I love Mattie and Charlie and Uncle Matthew and Aunt Alice because they're like my family, too. But I love Mummy in a very special way because she's my wife," Lucien said.

"It's different for married people?"

"Not all married people, but yes, it's different for married people. That's very grown up kind of love, and you'll know what that's like when you're much older," he told her.

Valerie sighed somewhat melodramatically. "Why do I have to wait for everything till I'm older?"

Jean answered that question. "That's just how life works, Valerie. The longer you're in the world, the more you'll come to know. But for now, please eat your carrots before they get cold. I know you don't like them cold, but you have to eat them no matter what, so it's better to get it over with now."

With a few grumbles, Valerie did as she was told. Jean took a bite of her own carrots before giving a spoonful of baby food to Johnny.

After dinner, Jean took Johnny upstairs for his bath and to get ready for bed. Lucien and Valerie did the dishes and cleaned the kitchen, as they did every night. It was only fair for them to do the cleaning after the meal when Jean had worked so hard to cook it for them. This division of household chores had come about during Jean's difficulties following Johnny's birth. She had barely been able to get out of bed, let alone do any housework. But Lucien had his patients and his cases with the police to worry about and could not adequately take care of the whole house on top of it. Now, Jean took most of the laboring oar in the house and with the children, and Lucien stepped in wherever it was convenient and helpful for him to do so. And it was good, they thought, for Valerie to get early exposure to chores. It would give her a sense of pride in doing work for herself and it would ensure that she felt like a contributing member of the household. So far, they had attained that goal. Their little girl could become quite forceful when she saw her father miss a spot when washing the dishes, refusing to dry and put away anything that wasn't perfectly clean.

"Bathtime, Valerie," Jean announced when she came back down to the kitchen. Johnny had washed and changed and dressed in his jammies and put in his crib. Jean always read a story to him for a little while before turning out the light. It was the one time he was ever still, it seemed, when she read to him.

But now that Johnny was in bed, it was time for Valerie to head that direction, too. She was mostly able to do things for herself, but Jean still oversaw the bath and helped her brush her teeth.

And while Jean was busy with the children and the kitchen had all been cleaned, Lucien spent some time in his study. He would review patient files or work on notes from his ongoing cases or whatever else needed to be done that he could only accomplish when he was the only one downstairs. He would stay there till he finished what needed doing. After that, he would go up to check on the children—both of whom were always asleep by then—and finally get into bed with his wife. Some nights were later than others. This particular night, Jean had not even finished taking off her makeup when he came in.

"There's something about this case, isn't there?" she asked, watching him in the mirror of her vanity.

Lucien sighed and sat on the edge of the bed, resting his elbows on his knees. "This is the fourth autopsy we've done in two weeks. That's far too many bodies. Far too much coincidence."

"They all died of the same thing?"

He nodded. "Cause of death was renal failure. But the police reports all state that each one of the four had complained of headaches and vision problems a day or two before they began violently vomiting and were found dead before anyone called for medical care."

Jean frowned at that. Those were not very nice symptoms at all. "Is it a contagious disease of some kind?"

"No, there's nothing that Alice and I know of that has those symptoms. And none of the victims were in any sort of contact with each other. There doesn't seem to be any connection between them that the police can find," Lucien told her.

"So how are they getting sick? Some sort of poison?"

"That's what I'm thinking, but it's working so quickly. Anything I know of that's that lethal doesn't have symptoms like that."

Jean went quiet, thinking. Lucien left her to it, standing up to begin getting changed for bed. His wife was a brilliant woman, and he had not worked a single case without her assistance since they'd gotten engaged. But she had a process just like he did. And quietly thinking about things and running them through her mind was a very important part of Jean's process.

That quiet thinking was interrupted, however, by a very familiar sound. Johnny had woken up and started crying. Lucien made to go check, but Jean stood up and waved him off. "I'll get him. He was acting a bit odd in the bath earlier, so I want to check on him anyway," she said.

Lucien unbuttoned his shirt and listened as Johnny's cries were soothed. All was well for a moment until he heard Jean scream his name in terror.


	2. Chapter 2

Lucien ran into Johnny's nursery to find Jean holding their baby boy as he threw up all over the place. She was trying to rub his back and comfort him, but there was not much else she could do. But she looked at her husband with terror in her eyes.

"Hospital. Right now. Grab some towels for him and get in the car. I'll get Valerie," Lucien instructed. They could waste no time. Perhaps it was unrelated but the fact that Lucien had just been telling Jean the symptoms of the people who had just died and then their son experienced the most telling of them was too much of a coincidence. They would take no chances.

The whole family was in the car, Lucien driving like a madman with Jean holding Johnny and Valerie half-asleep and afraid in the back seat. Johnny was no longer vomiting but he was whimpering and his eyes were very glassy.

As soon as they arrived at the emergency department, Lucien took Johnny from Jean's arms and began shouting for nurses to assist him. Jean, meanwhile, stayed off to the side with Valerie, holding their daughter's hand tightly.

"Mummy, what's going on?" she asked.

"Johnny is very sick. And Daddy is going to do what he can to help," Jean replied gently. Inside, her heart was pounding and her stomach was tying in knots and she wished she could just go hide somewhere and scream and cry. But that wouldn't help anyone just now. She would hold her daughter's hand, she would explain things as best she could, and she would wait for news. Someone had to remain calm. And Jean knew that task fell to her.

By the time Lucien came back to where his girls were waiting, he looked absolutely raked over the coals. His hair was starting to curl, his face was drawn, his eyes were dull, his whole posture was defeated.

"Where is he? What's going on?" Jean asked.

"He's stable for the time being. He's in a room in the children's ward. We can go see him now. I've ordered fluids to replace what he lost with the vomiting to prevent dehydration."

Valerie followed her parents and felt the fear and tension coming off them both in waves. She was wearing her nightdress and wearing her shoes and coat because her father had gotten her out of bed and told her to get in the car, and that's all she had been able to take. She wished she'd brought her teddy bear that Uncle Matthew had given her. The bear was soft and nice, and Valerie would have liked to have something to hold. For now, she'd just hold Mummy's hand.

They arrived in Johnny's room to see him hooked up to IVs and all sorts of monitors. Lucien explained, "He's fallen into a coma. He's breathing just fine and his heartbeat is strong, but he's unconscious. I'm hoping that the fluids will bring him 'round."

Jean let out a strangled sob, seeing him like that. Seeing him like that _again_. It was not so very long ago that she herself had nearly died bringing their son into the world nearly two months early. He'd been in this very hospital for a long time to ensure that he was all properly developed and strong enough to survive. Jean had vowed that her baby boy would never be in danger and stuck in a hospital ever again. And that vow had been shattered.

Lucien pulled Jean and Valerie both into his arms and held them. Jean buried her face in his neck and tried to keep from crying. Valerie was very confused and upset by the whole ordeal, evident in the way she'd remained extremely quiet through everything. She was not often a quiet child.

"I'm going to do everything I can," he promised. "Everything's going to be alright."

It was at that point that Valerie finally piped up. "What's wrong with him, Daddy?"

"We don't know yet. We have to run some tests," he told her gently, letting his embrace loosen a bit. Jean still clung to him.

"But what could it be? You gotta know what to test for, right?"

Oh she was a clever one, that Valerie Blake. She asked questions all the time and always remembered the answers. Both Lucien and Alice had explained the diagnostic process to her before. "There have been other people who got sick like the way Johnny has, and we don't quite know what was wrong with them, but we're going to rule out the same things, just in case Johnny's different," Lucien explained. He neglected to say that the other people who were sick like this had died within two days of their violent vomiting. And they were fully grown adults. Johnny was still a baby, and there was no way of telling how the illness might progress in him—assuming it was even the same thing.

Valerie might not have known the truth of those other victims, but Jean did. And the idea that her son might die was more horrifying than she could contemplate. She pressed herself closer to Lucien. He gently rubbed her back.

"Jean, you should take Valerie home. Get some sleep. I'll stay here with Johnny," he murmured.

She lifted her head to search his face. There was a glint of something in his eyes that made her change what she had been about to say. "Yes, alright." She swallowed back her fears and protests for the time being. "Come on, Valerie, let's go home and back to bed."

"Mummy, we should stay with Johnny," the little girl insisted.

"No, Daddy's going to stay. We need to go home."

"But why?"

Luckily, Jean had a quick answer. "Because the hospital won't let us stay all night. Daddy's a doctor, so he's allowed."

"But can't he just tell them to let us stay?"

"Daddy breaks enough rules as it is. No more arguing, please, let's go." And with that, Jean gave her husband's arm a comforting squeeze and ushered her daughter away.

Lucien walked them as far as the hallway, kissing Valerie goodnight and quietly promising Jean that everything would be alright. She responded with a look that told him quite loudly that he had no business making such promises.

Jean drove Valerie home in the family car. They were both very quiet. Jean did her best to keep her attention on driving through the dark streets of Ballarat. It was nearly midnight. The whole ordeal from when Johnny had woken up crying to when he'd been stabilized and put in his hospital room had been all of two hours. It was now well past everyone's bedtime.

And that was what Jean needed to focus on. One thing at a time. Drive home safely. Get Valerie into the house and settled back in bed. She seemed to be nodding off in the car, but she might wake up again when they got home. Sing to Valerie, soothe her fears, make sure she falls asleep.

That much she could do. She could care for her daughter. She could keep her mind occupied with making sure Valerie was alright. Because that was all she could do. Thinking about anything else until Valerie was safe and asleep in her bed would not be useful just now.

Thankfully, Valerie was well and properly exhausted. She shuffled her feet into the house and up the stairs, Jean leading her the whole way. Jean took of her coat and shoes and tucked her back into bed before turning out the light.

"Mummy, will you sing to me?"

"Of course I will, sweet girl." Jean sat on the edge of Valerie's bed and stroked her messy brown curls and began to sing the old American song that Lucien had learned for their baby girl all those years ago. "Valerie, my one and only. Valerie, don't leave me lonely. Stay here with me, oh can't you see? I love you, Valerie." And the little girl's eyes fluttered closed and her breathing turned deep and slow before Jean had sung half the chorus.

Jean kissed her forehead and got up to quietly close the door behind her. Now finally having succeeded in her immediate task, Jean took a deep breath and refocused her mind on what was next. Clean up the nursery. As desperately as she did not want to go into his room and see the horrific evidence of her baby's sudden and serious illness, she could not ignore it. Things needed to be cleaned and sterilized. The room needed to be put back in place before Johnny came home. And he would come home. She had to tell herself that he would come home.

Once again, Jean forced her mind to stay focused and not wander to other, more difficult things. Take the sheets off the cot. Remove all the pillows. Rinse the mess from everything. Boil water to sterilize. Soak the dirty linens. Scrub brush and soap for the carpet. Put away cleaning materials. Put all the used towels into the laundry. Change out of soiled clothes. Final rinse of linens. Bring everything out to hang on the line.

That was the most difficult part, actually. It was pitch black outside. She should have waited till morning. But she needed to stay busy and stay focused. Being idle wouldn't do. So she turned on the kitchen light to illuminate the yard as much as possible and stood out in the dark garden to hang the wash on the line. Many of the other ladies Jean had spoken to recently had gotten new washing machines and electric dryers. That would have been much easier. But probably very loud. And Valerie was sleeping. And this extra task kept Jean occupied. Maybe she could see about getting a new washer and dryer in the coming months. She would talk to Lucien.

Lucien. Yes, she would need to talk to Lucien. If they were going to see what was wrong with their son and make sure he got well again, they would need to talk. After all, it was Jean who spent all day with the children. He would need to ask her what Johnny had been doing the last few days, what might have caused this illness.

Once the wash was all on the line, Jean sat down in Lucien's study with one of his notebooks and began to write out all the details she could recall, everything that had been a bit off about their boy that may have been symptoms.

He had been running a lot, which wasn't anything out of the ordinary. He was an active child. But he'd bumped into things more often over the last two days. Valerie had commented on it, how Johnny was hitting the sofa. Johnny hadn't seemed bothered by it, but perhaps there was something to it. He'd also been so clingy lately. Begging to be picked up and refusing to be let go. He liked to bury his little face in her neck and whimper and whine if she tried to put him down. Perhaps that was something significant. Jean tried to think of anything else. He'd not eaten anything out of the ordinary. There was that French baguette that Jean had gotten from the bakery that Johnny snatched out of the bag of other groceries and sat in the corner just sucking on the crust till Jean noticed. She'd been rather cross about that, since she'd have to throw the baguette out. He'd been sitting on the floor and sucking on it, and there was no way she could have saved it.

She put down her pen and sighed. There was no use going on. Her brain had stopped working, now. There was no focus left in her. The clock on the desk told her it was nearly five. She'd been up all night. She wouldn't have been able to sleep if she'd tried. But no more mental tasks. No more thinking. She could make a cup of tea for herself and sit in the kitchen and think of nothing at all. And then start on breakfast for Valerie and herself, perhaps bake some muffins to bring to Lucien. Knowing him, he'd not think to have breakfast. She and Valerie could go back to the hospital to bring things for him and see what had happened with Johnny overnight and go from there.

Lucien, meanwhile, had not moved from where he sat by his son's hospital bed. He was so small in that big bed. Lucien always had that thought, it seemed, when it came to Johnny. He'd been born so early—nearly too early. And he'd been so terrifyingly small. But he'd grown and flourished over his short life so far. He was proper height and weight for a child his size. He was actually a bit big for being twenty months. But Lucien himself was rather tall, so perhaps Johnny had inherited that along with Lucien's eyes and hair and energy levels.

Reaching out to gently trace lines on Johnny's soft baby skin, Lucien began to speak to him softly. "You are the most beautiful boy, Johnny. You and your sister are so beautiful. I could sit and stare at you forever. And I will. I'll be here watching you till you wake up, son." He sighed to himself at that. If he concentrated really hard, Lucien could almost pretend that Johnny was just sleeping.

"I never thought I'd have a son. Never thought I'd have any children with your mother. Valerie was such a wonderful surprise. And you, coming into our lives so late, were a terrifying surprise. But everything is worth it. We're too old to have a baby, I know, but we wouldn't trade you for anything. You're our boy, our beautiful little boy. And I want to watch you grow up and see the man you'll turn into. I want to be around to show you the way and support you as you explore the world and learn all there is to know."

Imagining Johnny grown up made Lucien smile. He could picture his son being his spitting image, that same tall boyish man Lucien himself was as a young man. But as much as Johnny looked and sometimes acted like Lucien, he knew they were not exactly alike. "You're so like your mother," he told his sleeping boy. "She doesn't see it yet, but I know you are. The way you've been since birth about words and stories and thought. Valerie read and asks questions and sits still for hours fixated on one thing. But you're not like that, are you? You're always watching and learning, you're always doing a million things at once. Your mum's like that. She watches and she helps and she juggles all of the things she needs to do. I'm terrible at that, but you're not. I can see it already. You're going to grow up to be a complex and wonderful man, Johnny. But…" Lucien's voice cracked as he built up to what he knew he really needed to say. "Johnny, I need you to wake up. I need you to get better and wake up so you can grow up to be that wonderful man. Please, Johnny."

"Pardon me, Doctor Blake."

Lucien looked up to see one of the young nurses in the doorway. "Yes?"

The nurse hurried in with an envelope. "This was delivered to the nurse's station for you."

The back of the envelope had Lucien's name. He did not recognize the handwriting. He opened it and unfolded the single piece of paper inside. There was only one line written on it, right in the center.

_This is what happens when you meddle where you do not belong._


	3. Chapter 3

The first thing Lucien did was call the police station. It was the middle of the night, so only young Peter was available. He came immediately to the hospital to investigate the threatening note. Lucien sent him off with a harried and haphazard set of ideas.

"See if there are any criminals I helped arrest and convict who have gotten out of prison. Or…maybe one of the doctors here? None of them like me much. I don't recognize the handwriting. Maybe ask the nurses? I don't know, Peter, but just please figure something out," he begged.

"I'll get right on it, Doc. And I'll inform the boss first thing in the morning, too. Let me have the night and I'll see what I can do, alright?" Peter placated.

Lucien just nodded numbly and handed over the note he received. He went back into Johnny's room and sat by his son's bedside. He did not have anything left to say, so he just stroked the blonde curls on his head and whispered, "I love you."

Back at the Blake house, Valerie had gotten out of bed and felt very groggy indeed. She usually went to bed much earlier, and the excitement of the evening had caused her to worry and lose a lot of sleep. Though her parents hadn't gotten any sleep at all, so it was just par for the course for the Blakes that day.

Jean baked muffins and gave one to Valerie for breakfast. The two ladies were quiet that morning, both exhausted and worried and unwilling to say or do anything that might upset the other. Jean asked Valerie to practice piano—which she very willingly did—and Jean packed up the rest of the muffins to bring to the hospital. She was just about to call Valerie to get ready to leave when the phone rang. That infernal phone!  
"Blake residence," Jean answered, hoping she could do away with this caller quickly and easily. She had no patience for such things today.

"Good morning, Jean, I hope I'm not calling too early."

Jean smiled for the first time in a while. "No, not at all, Alice. How are you?"

"I'm well thank you. I was hoping to speak with Lucien, is he available?"

All good feeling from hearing her friend's voice was wiped away in that instant. "He's at the hospital," Jean replied gravely.

"Oh? I haven't seen him."

"He…he's with Johnny." Jean was having trouble finding the words.

"Johnny?" Alice asked in confusion.

"We took him in late last night. He was vomiting and he's been in a coma all night. Lucien stayed with him. I was just about to take Valerie to go visit," Jean replied.

"What room?"

Jean gave her the number and was about to ask something else when Alice thanked her and hung up. With a resigned sigh—Alice was always doing slightly strange things like that—Jean called for Valerie and packed up the car to go to the hospital themselves.

Mother and daughter found Lucien still holding his vigil at Johnny's bedside. He saw them come in and immediately got to his feet to pull them both into his arms. "Good morning," he murmured, kissing Jean and Valerie both.

"How is he?" Jean asked, pulling away from her husband's embrace to go see to her son.

"The same. But we have him on medication now," Lucien told her.

"Medication?"

He nodded. "Alice got the lab results back for the blood of our poisoning victims. And Johnny's positive for the same thing."  
"And?"

"Mercury. Extremely high in the victims. Much lower in Johnny, but still too high for a child his age."

Jean's mind raced with this new information. "He was bumping into things," she breathed, remembering.

"What was that?"

Her eyes snapped back into focus. "Johnny was running around and bumping into the sofa and doorjambs the other day. That must have been the vision problems your other victims complained of. And…he didn't want me to put him down when I picked him up. He whimpered a bit. Maybe that was the headache? And obviously we saw the vomiting."

Lucien just nodded. He hadn't noticed the other symptoms but Jean's explanation made perfect sense. Jean's explanations usually made perfect sense.

"So will he get better now?" she asked, daring to hope.

He faltered. "We…we don't know. No one knows what sort of dosages would be right for a baby. No one's ever encountered anything like this. But, Jean, there's something I need to tell you…"

Lucien was interrupted by Matthew Lawson entering the hospital room. Valerie ran to him immediately. "Uncle Matthew!"

"Hello, Valerie," Matthew greeted, putting an affectionate hand on her cheek. But he was dressed in uniform, and Valerie knew better than to disrespect the interim Chief Inspector on duty. Luckily for Valerie, however, Frank Carlyle, her other favorite uncle, would be returning from training in Melbourne in just under a month and Matthew could return to his quiet retirement.

"Matthew, you've heard?" Jean said, greeting her friend but not taking a single step from her son's side.

But Matthew looked to Lucien. He turned back to his wife. "Jean, there's been a development…"

Lucien told her of the note and his frantic call to Peter.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"It was two in the morning, Jean."

"I was up!"

"But Valerie wasn't."

That reminder quieted her. But her heart was pounding and her mind was whirling a thousand miles a minute. "So this was because of you," she realized aloud.

Lucien had been punishing himself with that very thought all night. But to hear those words from Jean's lips was even harder to bear. He only nodded, not trusting himself to open his mouth without sobbing over his guilt.

Jean considered this for a moment, considered what it meant that their son was collateral damage in some madman's vendetta against her husband. And slowly, she nodded. For what else could she do? She knew the price that they all paid to love Lucien Blake. She had told him so many years ago when he stood by Lake Wendouree filled with self-loathing over Joy MacDonald's death. He didn't save everyone. He couldn't save everyone. And sometimes he paid the price. And everyone who loved him signed up for that. "Alright. So who is it?" she asked.

"We don't know yet," Matthew answered on Lucien's behalf. "Peter is at the station with samples from written confessions by criminals who might have a grudge."

"Well that could be anyone," Jean pointed out.

Lucien very nearly rolled his eyes at that remark but his mind focused on what they were doing. "It would help if we knew how Johnny may have been exposed to mercury. That would narrow down the means and then who may have had access to them."

Jean was prepared for this very thought. She showed Lucien the notes she'd taken trying to figure out his illness. And now that they knew what it was, they could use those notes to find out what they needed to know.

One particular note stuck out to Lucien. "The baguette…you said you threw it away?"  
"Yes, his mouth was all over it. Nearly sucked the end of it to mush. And the rest of it was sitting on the floor. We couldn't very well eat it after that," she said.

Lucien nodded. He paced around the room, thinking. "So no one else ate that bread. Interesting," he thought aloud. He suddenly turned and bent down to speak with his daughter. "Valerie, would you like to come with me to see Aunt Alice?"

The little girl grinned broadly. "Yes, please, Daddy!"

"Alright, let's you and me and Uncle Matthew go see Aunt Alice." He stood up and turned his attention to Jean. "You want to stay here?"

Jean just nodded. She was still reeling from the idea that someone may have poisoned a loaf of bread to make their son very sick. And to kill four other people. But let Lucien figure it out. Jean would stay and she would sit with her baby boy and she would pray.

Lucien practically sprinted down to the morgue. Valerie was hot on his heels, and Matthew brought up the rear, limping as best he could to follow.

"Alice!" Lucien shouted.

Dr. Harvey came from her desk to see what was the matter. And she was grateful that she hadn't been in the midst of an examination, once she saw that Valerie was with her father. Jean did not approve of their little girl being exposed to corpses at her age, despite Valerie being wildly interested in every aspect of Alice's job.

"Hi, dear," Matthew greeted, looking a bit apologetic. But Alice knew Lucien as well as or even better than most people; there was no need for her husband to apologize for Dr. Blake.

"Hello all," Alice said with a nod to each of them. "What can I do for you?"

"I need the stomach contents of each of our mercury victims," Lucien demanded.

"We already went over that, Lucien. They didn't have anything in common. One had fish, one had a bunch of glutenous mush, one had glutenous mush with cheese and chicken in probably a sandwich, and one had steak."

But Lucien inexplicably smirked. "That glutenous mush. I'd be you anything in was bread."

"Probably was, but what's that got to do with anything?" Alice replied.

"Johnny had a baguette in his mouth that Jean then threw out. That's why he wasn't as strongly poisoned as the others. And is why no one else in my family got sick. He only got a taste of it, and none of the rest of us ate it. Alice, the mercury's in the bread!" he deduced.

"So where's your bread from? The bakery where Jean got that baguette might have sold bread to all four victims," Matthew added.

That gave Lucien pause. He had no idea which bakery his wife bought that baguette from.

"Morrison's!" Valerie announced.

Lucien picked her up and kissed her cheek. "Valerie, is that where your mum bought the bread the other day?" he asked her.

"Yes," she told him. "She likes regular bread from Perry's, but Morrison's does the best baguettes. Mummy says so."

Before anyone could go on, the morgue phone rang. Alice left Lucien and Valerie and Matthew to their work as she answered it. "Ballarat Hospital Morgue, this is Dr. Harvey."

"Dr. Harvey, this is Constable Crowe with the Ballarat police. I'd like to request your assistance with something at the station."

"Oh?"

Peter cleared his throat nervously. "Dr. Harvey, were you acquainted with a Louis Browne?"

"Yes, I am. He was an assistant in the morgue until about two weeks ago when Dr. Blake caught him stealing medications from the hospital and had him fired."

"And would you recognize his handwriting?"

"Yes, of course I would. I worked closely with him for nearly three months," Alice answered.

Lucien and Matthew had gone quiet to listen to Alice's conversation. She quickly hung up and turned back to them.

"Peter might have found a handwriting match and wants me to look at it."

"Alice, did Louis Browne poison my son?" Lucien asked pointe blank.

"I don't know. But he may have sent you that note. I'm going to go to the station and see. Valerie, would you like to come with me?" Alice asked.

Lucien caught her eye and nodded subtly. He was going to go to Morrison's and see what could be learned about that bread. Valerie could not come with him for that. The police station was practically her second home, and Peter always gave her some little trinket to play with. She'd be much safer there.

While Alice took care of Valerie and went to the station to check the handwriting, Matthew drove Lucien to the bakery, insisting that he couldn't go alone in his current state. What if the person who had threatened Lucien's family were there? What if he came face to face with the person who poisoned his baby boy? Matthew did not like the idea of Lucien being on his own with no one to hold him back. Not that a crippled and retired policeman could do much. But he knew his friend and he knew he could at least try to help keep him in check.

Jean remained by Johnny's bed. He looked like a peaceful little angel. He was her little angel. Her miracle little boy. Jean Blake had been far too old to conceive a child. She had never thought to have another child after Valerie, who was a wonderful surprise as it was. She had never dreamed she could give Lucien a son. But she had! They had brought this perfect child into the world, despite all the traumatic difficulties the pregnancy and birth and recovery had wrought on their family.

It was in Jean's mind to speak softly to her son, to tell him a story like he liked. Valerie had liked it when her parents sang to her, but Jonny liked to be read to. But Jean hadn't thought to bring a book with her. The muffins were sitting in a bag beside her purse, forgotten in the chaos of the morning. Lucien was off solving the mystery, and Jean was left to watch over Johnny. And that was how she would have wanted it, if given the choice. For all the excitement and adventure she enjoyed in helping her husband with his cases, Jean knew her place was right here, holding down the fort as it were, and watching over her children. She had only had about two months to be a proper mother to Johnny, for it had taken over a year for her to fully escape the crippling depression that the hormone changes and difficult surgery had foisted upon her. Only two months, and now it might all be ripped away from her.

All of a sudden, the baby stirred. Jean practically jumped out of her seat to see to him. He stretched his little arms and legs, and his eyes fluttered open. That dazzling blue he inherited from his father was still a bit glassy, but he looked right at her.

"Hi, Mummy," he said. His voice was a little hoarse from disuse.

Jean burst into tears. "Hello, sweet boy."

"Mummy, hug?" he requested, reaching a shaky hand out to her.

Careful to not disturb the IVs and monitors connected to him, Jean lifted her boy into her arms, cradling him against her. "You're alright, Johnny. Everything's alright," she murmured between her quiet sobs.

And that was how Lucien found them. Jean holding Johnny and his gaze growing brighter and sharper as he woke further from the coma. "What's this?"

Jean beamed at him. "Someone's awake."

Lucien kissed Johnny's curly hair and stroked his cheek. "So I see. Good to have you back, son."

Johnny grinned up at his father. "Hi, Dada."

Though he tried to blink them back, a few tears escaped down Lucien's cheek.

"Have you solved it?" Jean asked. She almost did not care about the result, now that her son was awake and on the mend.

"Yes. The note was from an assistant in the morgue who I had fired a few weeks ago. Alice took Valerie with her to the station to verify the handwriting. Matthew brought him in and interviewed him, and he had nothing to do with the poisoning. He just wanted to rub my face in our misfortune as punishment for getting him fired."

Jean could not help but think that it took a very small-minded and cruel-hearted man to do such a thing, but that was neither here nor there. "And the poisoning?"

"Morrison's had hired a temporary worker to help out while one of their bakers was out sick. Turns out he was a miner who helped bake bread with mercury dust on his hands. Once Morrison saw someone with dirty hands touching bread dough, he fired the man on the spot. He had no idea that any of the bread actually got contaminated and then actually sold for consumption. All four of the victims were customers during the week the miner was in the kitchen," Lucien explained.

"So it was all a horrible accident?"

"Yes. And I can't apologize to you enough, Jean."

She turned to him sharply. "Why do you need to apologize to me, Lucien? None of this was your fault. You just said it was all a horrible accident."

"But we all believed that it wasn't! Neither you nor I had any trouble thinking that someone was hurting our family to get back at me for something! It might not have been my fault this time, but…"

"No," she said, cutting off his guilty conscience. "We can't think like that. We have our family and we love each other and we do the best we can. There is absolutely no use in either of us worrying about what might be coming around the next corner or why it has. All we can do is enjoy our children and be the best parents to them that we can. And you have to continue your work in order to do that. You wouldn't be yourself otherwise. I wouldn't want you to stop solving your mysteries any more than I would want you to give up playing piano. It's a part of you and a part of our life. And I won't hear another word about it."

Lucien could not help but smile. "I love you, Jean."

"And I love you. Now please go into my bag over there and eat a muffin because it's lunchtime and I'm sure you haven't eaten anything since dinner last night," she instructed.

He chuckled lightly and kissed her cheek. "Yes, dear." Lucien ruffled Johnny's hair to elicit a smile from the baby and then went to get a muffin.

**THE END**


End file.
